Over 300 reviews. YOU GUYS... *sigh* You're all so lovely. I'm so sorry this took a little while to post and I broke my (almost) daily posting. I knew exactly what I was writing but I have been pretty busy and also didn't really feel in the right mood to write it. I knew if I wasn't in the right mood that it wouldn't come out the way it should so I can only apologise for the delay.
Before I launch into the instalment, I wanted to recommend a fic to you all. You'll have all read Dalton so it's not even necessary for me to mention it ;) The thing I wanted to talk about was the BRILLIANCE of Dalton and the world it's created. I tweeted (randomly) Telly who plays Wes (I loved him from when he played Angel in Rent) saying The Warblers really should have a spin off. He tweeted back something adorable and excited... THEN the fics started and they MADE MY LIFE :P
I read law books for a living so reading infraredpheaton's SPAH! Series was my escape for a bit. If you HAVE NOT read it then head over to the daltonacademy LJ and READ. RIGHT NOW. I'm seriously in love with her OCs that I was even rooting for them. It's LAUGH OUT LOUD incredible and I fell head over heels for her Wes and David. It's so original and inspired. I can't do it justice in words, I just wanted to recommend it because if you haven't read it, you're missing out. BIG TIME :D
Again, THANK YOU for your messages. To those who followed old stuff I did (hiiii there!). I am genuinely so unbelievably shocked by the response and kindness. I only hope I can keep going and wrap up the story well in the end. Don't worry ... plenty to come yet.
This one is much longer than the last and is filled with all sorts. Took me a while to write but I loved writing it. I really hope you enjoy : )
PS: Thanks to paintpurple for pointing out an awful mistake in Chapter 18 – "anxiousness" instead of "anxiety" – that's what 4 hours of civil litigation does to you :P Sorry folks!
Also a special little thank you to madeline1410, Joanna and JP-Wings – your messages were so unbelievably sweet so THANK YOU : D
Kurt barely remembered going to sleep. He was sure he must have drifted off mid way through whichever movie they'd chosen. His murky memory recalled Finn asking Blaine a string of awkward questions and Carole, every ten minutes, suggesting Blaine eat or drink something. That was it. He must have fallen asleep on the couch. He'd sat beside Blaine but had been very careful to stay leaning against the arm of the chair – distance was important when Burt sat a metre away.
Kurt pulled himself out of bed, making a face as Finn snored and lashed out his arm. Kurt shook his head with a roll of his eyes – Finn was everything a big brother should be, he mused, entirely unaware of how he even found him attractive all of those months back.
He straightened his hair and padded upstairs into the kitchen, avoiding the lounge where Blaine would no doubt be sleeping. Burt was already up and fully dressed.
"Hey dad," Kurt mumbled through his sleepy state, "are you the first awake?"
Burt smiled, nodding his reply. "I didn't sleep much."
The orange juice was out so Kurt sighed, grabbed a glass of milk and joined his father at the table. "So, what time are we leaving for the market?"
Kurt could sense something wasn't right. Burt usually teased and joked as he drank his coffee, he didn't answer so simply and was never so quiet.
"Look Kurt, I need to talk to you... about this boy."
Kurt felt a little queasy. They hadn't had this conversation yet and Kurt wasn't even sure what he'd say. It wasn't as if things were written in stone or confessed. He felt himself tense. He'd been so careful to keep a distance from Blaine and to avoid showing any signs of their feelings.
"What about him?"
"For a start," Burt began, leaning forward with his mug in hand, "are you two...I mean are you both... are you an item?"
Kurt spat out a nervous laugh, swallowing his milk awkwardly. "No Dad we're not."
"Ok, but you like him?" Burt asked, choosing his words carefully.
Kurt stared at his milk. What could he say? He never lied to his father and never wished to. "Dad..."
"Look, Kurt, he's a good kid, I can see that. This isn't about me giving you the third degree. This is me wanting to be honest with my son."
Kurt nodded slowly, his eyes wide. "Yes I like him."
Burt let himself take it in and leaned back in his chair. "He treat you well?"
Kurt had to chuckle. Burt seemed to frown at this, unsure as to why he was being laughed at. "He's the best. Honestly Dad he's so kind and considerate. He's helped me more than I can even put into words."
Kurt realised he'd become animated as he talked about Blaine, his hands moving and face springing into action. It was easy to slip into. He had no problem gushing about Blaine and how wonderful he'd been since the transfer – it was easy telling the truth.
"He the one who sent you those messages when you were still at McKinley?"
"Yes. He even came to visit when I was upset."
Burt took a sip of his coffee. Kurt could see the wrinkles in his father's forehead deepen in obvious thought. It was disconcerting, waiting for Burt to speak and worrying that he'd object to something or say that Blaine couldn't stay.
"He make you happy?" Burt asked, taking a deep breath as he spoke. Kurt went to reply in the affirmative but was interrupted by a huge smile taking over his face. Kurt bit his lip. There wasn't even a need to answer out loud.
It was then that Burt nodded his head, pouring the rest of his, now cold, coffee down the sink. He snaked his hand inside of the cookie jar and pulled out three. Kurt went to protest but thought again – it really was not the time.
"You'd better go wake him up then. I told Carole we'd be leaving in just over an hour," Burt eventually spoke with a trace of a smile on his face. It was awkward and somewhat clouded by mixed feelings but it was a sign of happiness and of acceptance.
Kurt beamed back and before leaving the room, leaned up to kiss his dad's cheek as he passed.
As Kurt crept into the lounge, he felt his skin prickle. It was a reaction he should have been used to as it happened every time he came in a short radius to Blaine but it never seemed to dampen. He glanced down to see the other boy's curls escaping again, his head pressed deep into the pillow and one of Carole's old multi-coloured knitted blankets bunched up by his neck. It was one of those mental photograph moments.
Kurt laughed to himself, realising it was becoming a habit to wake up Blaine Thornton. Just as he was about to speak, Blaine seemed to pre-empt any action, rolling over to face him and squinting into a smile.
"Morning," he said, his voice low, breaking a little. Kurt considered it to be insanely sexy.
He knelt down on the carpet by the couch and smiled. "Hi. You sleep ok?"
Blaine slid his arms out of the mountain of blankets and pulled himself up to a sitting position. Kurt's eyes never left his arms. It was like he was learning every heavenly aspect of Blaine for the first time because he was allowed to.
"Amazing, thanks. Carole's so wonderful. She made me actual cocoa before I went to sleep. I haven't drank cocoa since I wore Spiderman pajamas."
Kurt giggled, settling down further into the carpet. "I'm not even going to ask, in fact, I'm going to forget you ever said that." He snapped his words but smiled to show he was joking.
"Ouch, razor sharp at this time in the morning," Blaine grinned back, narrowing his eyes playfully, "you can't have always been so cutting edge, you must have worn or done something I can use to mock you with."
Burt chose that moment to pass through the room to reach the stairs. "You'll struggle," he added, "Kurt asked to wear a bow tie to his sixth birthday party and requested a pair of sensible heels for his seventh. You've got nothing kiddo." Burt spoke to Blaine only, his eyes holding a base firmness but glinting with humour. As he disappeared, Kurt was sure he'd never loved his father more.
Blaine seemed to breathe out. "He likes you," Kurt stated with a satisfied grin.
"I thought I'd wake up to him polishing that gun when you fell asleep on me last night."
Kurt's hand flew to his mouth. "What! I did what?"
"You fell asleep with your head on my shoulder," Blaine laughed out, "I had to stop myself from moving because you were on the verge of doing your plastering thing and I could all but see your dad working out ways to rearrange my face with his fist."
Kurt let his head fall into his hands with a groan. "I am sooooo sorry," he breathed out, his words hitting his fingertips, "I obviously had no idea what I was doing."
"It was pretty cute though," Blaine muttered quietly with a glance sideways at Kurt, "you linked my arm like people do in old movies. I thought Carole was about to melt into a puddle."
Kurt didn't remove his hands, groaning further into his lap. "Oh god."
Blaine watched as Kurt curled into a ball. It'd been more than cute, it had felt precious, even through the abject terror of being killed with whatever size shotgun was loitering in some cupboard. Kurt had instinctively reached out in his sleep and that was exactly what Blaine was sure he would never get used to – someone who wanted to do that and who instigated affection as he always found himself doing. He craved closeness and that profound ache to touch another person to show how you felt and had never considered that someone else may do the same. He'd learned to expect to have to seek out such warmth.
"Anyway, your dad seems cool with it so it's alright. He's a good guy. I like him."
Kurt peeked through his fingers. "Even though you feared for your life?" he asked, his voice whining with embarrassment.
"Yes."
Kurt sighed heavily, shaking his head loose of the minor stress panic. "What a morning," he complained, leaning subconsciously on the couch with his elbows, drawing the pair closer. Blaine watched as Kurt's eyes fell on his again, glowing a mixture of golds, blues and greens. As mesmerising as they were, he couldn't help feeling his fingers twitch in desperate need to stroke a line down Kurt's cheek just to see what it felt like – to see if it was as soft as it looked.
Kurt glanced up at Blaine's hair. "Will you leave it like that for today?" he asked, motioning a twirling shape with his fingers, "it suits you so much." As Blaine glanced up at the curly fronds just peeking over his hairline, Kurt reached and stroked his fingers tenderly through the front of them; his eyes wilted dreamily and as his head tipped slightly to the side contentedly. He was almost distracted with the action, fully intent upon what he was doing. Blaine shuffled happily under the touch, his eyes momentarily closing.
"As long as I can request one thing from you in return too?" Blaine asked, his eyes still closed. He nestled a fraction closer on the couch making them now only inches away. They both seemed to breathe in instinctively.
Kurt felt his skin balm with warmth as he withdrew his hand softly. "Your wish is my command," he replied, so sure it'd be something humorous and flippant.
Blaine's eyes changed in an instant. They grew deeper and more eager with a hint of a spark showing their complete honesty. Kurt felt himself lost in them, unable to deny Blaine anything. He blinked out of his temporary daze and cocked his head to the side as Blaine smiled.
"Can I ask for it later?" he smiled, all lopsided and dashing. There was no way Kurt was going to refuse so he nodded, his tummy swirling excitedly, pondering the possibilities.
-.-.-.-.-.
Kurt wanted to look good and nothing seemed right. He'd thrown more clothes over his room that even Finn had groaned in disagreement before throwing them back.
"Kurt just wear something, anything, why is it so hard?" he whined, kicking a thin veiled scarf off his foot where it'd landed as he lay on his bed.
Kurt snapped his eyes on his brother with a glare. "Just because you throw on whatever lovely items," he gestured with a sarcastic purse of his lips, "you find on the floor does not mean I have to do the same. I happen to want to look decent today and by decent I don't mean normal. It's Christmas and I want to make an effort."
Finn scoffed. "Christmas. Yea right."
Kurt switched his glare again, his preened eyebrows raised in accusation. "And what is that supposed to mean?"
It was all Finn could do to stifle a laugh. "You want to look good to impress out little house gues upstairs dude, don't lie."
Kurt rolled his eyes and whipped his head away, not deigning himself to rise to Finn's mockery even though his stomach fluttered as Blaine was mentioned. Finn was onto him.
Blaine chose that moment to step down into the basement hesitantly. "I'm not interrupting anything am I?" he asked. Kurt felt himself curse Finn inwardly for just being in the room as Kurt was restricted in viewing Blaine when he was dishevelled – Kurt's favourite 'Blaine'. As handsome as put together Blaine was and as dashing as he looked in his dapper attire, he oozed sex appeal just being relaxed and casual.
"No, of course not, come in," Kurt reassured him with a wave of his hand. Finn turned and smiled to appease Kurt and welcome Blaine.
"Dude, I'd stay away. Kurt's in one of his moods."
Blaine laughed, leaning against the desk. "Which one?" he asked, smiling sideways.
Kurt could feel himself blush. He gathered an armful of clothes and pushed them into his closet with an 'oof'. It was one thing for Finn to see him all flailing arms and mid-tantrum, but for Blaine to see him so unkempt... well, it wasn't a good idea. Kurt was sure he'd run a mile.
"I can't choose what to wear and nothing seems right," Kurt mumbled dismissively, "but it's fine. I think I've settled on something."
Blaine took this opportunity to wander to Kurt's side. Finn coughed playfully behind his magazine that he'd picked up cleverly – he could spy over it.
"Kurt you have more clothes than I have ever owned. I'm sure there's something you can throw together."
Finn squeaked as he felt himself await Kurt's reply. "Throw?" Kurt blurted out, "Blaine, one does not throw an outfit together. That, especially on me, would be unwise. I am not leaving this house unless I am happy with what I'm wearing."
Blaine frowned. He'd never placed a great deal of weight on clothes. His mother was a plain and classical dresser, always going for her trademark pencil skirt with delicate blouses and plain jewellery. His father, a man of the suit, was forever well turned out and starched. Blaine had followed naturally in their footsteps. He'd experimented on Dalton weekends with clothes as much as possible and felt he'd established an easy set of outfits that he felt 'himself' in, however, Kurt had it down. He was extremely fashionable and striking at every turn, regardless of his mood. Blaine always felt comfortable and at home in something more refined and smart. He felt his confidence rise when he flattened his hair and pulled on a shirt or blazer because he wouldn't stand out too much and would certainly not be judged for what he wore. A lifetime of being taunted at his old school taught him that lesson. He felt his eyes flicker over Kurt's wardrobe contents. The patterns and textures were delightfully interesting and stunningly arranged by colour. Kurt had a leather jacket next to a Pavarotti yellow thick knit cardigan and a pair of purple and black striped bondage pants (Blaine liked those especially) tucked alongside a pair of moss green skinny jeans. Blaine wanted, very much, to see Kurt in everything.
One thing that was apparent and almost troubling to Blaine was Kurt's reluctance to appear anything but pristine. It was admirable and Kurt pulled it off with grace and ease but he wished Kurt could feel comfortable as himself, looking mussed and a bit of a mess. Kurt was the only person he'd ever met who preened himself before breakfast.
"Kurt," Blaine stated warmly with a slow hand over the other boy's shoulders, "you'll look great in whatever you wear."
Kurt felt every point of contact that Blaine made with his skin and realised it was the first time Blaine had tugged him to his side. He was struck with how warm and appealingly snug he felt. It was icy cold as he was released. Kurt barely contained a small whine in protest. They looked at each other, both with small keen smiles, until Kurt rolled his eyes in mild flirt and sighed.
"Ok. Well, help me. Red knit or blue cashmere?" he hummed, throwing Blaine his options.
As Blaine caught them, he saw Finn gesturing to the left, obviously helping the decision with a sliver of inside knowledge. Kurt sat in his hip waiting for an answer.
"Um, the blue?" Blaine suggested, his voice a little high pitched in reply. He felt himself breathe in.
Kurt smiled, beaming and wide before pulling the offending articles away from Blaine's grasp and pulling a self satisfied smile at his brother. "See," he urged with a hint of playful venom, "someone other than me is interested and does give a damn."
As Kurt flounced off in the direction of his bathroom, Blaine offered Finn a grateful thumbs up and perched on the edge of Kurt's bed.
"So you like Kurt?" Finn asked. He shuffled on his bed to reach a sitting position.
It was blunt but expected. Blaine wasn't sure he was quite ready for the Spanish inquisition but he found himself preparing to give as good as he got. He was aware of Finn and his temperament so was ready for anything he could throw his way.
"I do."
Finn air punched. "I knew it," he cried with more joviality than Blaine was expecting, "I knew when we came to collect Kurt and you helped us carry all his crap up to his room. No guy he'd known for two minutes would have given a damn."
Blaine tried not to let his cheeks darken, he tried hard, but it was inevitable. He wasn't sure he should remain in the room from fear of saying or doing something that could potentially put any developments, however miniscule, with Kurt back miles.
"Look, Finn-" he began, his voice a little desperate.
"Dude, no need. I get it. Kurt's a good guy. He's my brother, well, kind of, and I've got his back which means, if you make him happy then that's ok. He didn't smile much at McKinley unless he was singing or on stage so... I guess it's good, you know, you making him smile?"
Blaine glanced up a fraction to meet the other boy's eyes. Finn smiled, charming and lopsided, and nodded with encouragement. Blaine could feel himself breathe out, the tension not thawing a little. "I make him smile?" he asked, not too sure why but wanting to know the answer badly.
"Yea dude. You do. Plus you know all about the stuff he likes and you do things like that," Finn gestured in reference to the outfit choosing incident, "so yea."
As this moment, Kurt stepped out of the bathroom, his clothes now fully arranged into an outfit Blaine was sure could be straight from the centrefold of GQ. It was outstanding how the word 'beautiful' often graced the tip of Blaine's tongue but Kurt embodied the phrase. He was angular in the best way and soft in the rest, holding his frame so elegantly yet with a subtle masculine edge too – a perfect combination.
Blaine, to avoid bumbling an awkward comment, forced a large smile and headed for the bathroom. "It ok if I take a shower?"
Kurt let out a noise. He hadn't meant to and he knew Finn, without even turning his head, was laughing into his lame excuse for printed literature, but he'd made it nonetheless.
"Y-yes I mean, of course. There are towels on the rail inside. You can use mine, they're the clean, pressed and expensive looking ones," he flashed a look of superiority towards his brother who rolled his eyes with a smirk, "and help yourself to anything else you might need."
Blaine happily nodded and closed the door slowly behind him. Kurt didn't move for a good few seconds, his brain frantically flashing images of brick walls and Mr Schue's terrible sweater vests in an attempt to suppress his more unruly teenage urges. 'Do not picture Blaine in the shower, do not picture Blaine in the shower' he repeated as a mantra, slowly taking breaths to calm his active mind.
"Totally trying to block the images out right?" Finn called from behind. Kurt didn't turn. He didn't even think before he nodded but he did, slowly and regretfully.
Finn laughed, quite possibly a giggle, and scoffed again. "Try having a girlfriend, well kind of not anymore but, try having a girl who wants a lavish Jewish Wedding and the starring role in a Broadway show until she'll even consider putting out."
Kurt would have hugged Finn for being so cool about everything but he didn't want to move. It was all a little too surreal. Kurt would have lied if he'd pretended like he hadn't fantasised what it'd be like to ever put himself in the position where a guy could stay over and wrap himself in one of his very well chosen towels- extra fluffy. He'd imaged that and much more, inspired by April Rhodes' muscle magazines, but it was alien and so detached from what he considered to be real life that he almost laughed. He had a guy he'd kissed (sort of) and was currently crazy about in his shower, using his Christmas bought Dolce toiletries and standing under his hot water. He shook his head, his hand flying to hide his face.
"Music," he cried, "this room is too quiet, we need music. It's Christmas for god's sakes."
Anything to mask the sound of the running water. Anything to remove Blaine's naked torso from his mind's eye.
Finn left after a few minutes of watching Kurt fold the same pair of jeans in frustration, to make a grilled cheese sandwich.
Kurt found himself perched upon his bed texting Mercedes.
"That shower is incredible."
Kurt dropped his phone. He felt his throat catch and his eyes spread wide. Blaine knew he was half naked and standing, wet, at the door to Kurt's en-suite but he had nowhere else to go. He wasn't shy or embarrassed, just more than a little aware of the fact that Kurt was the other person in the room. It was one of those defining moments where life can either give you a break or a slap in the face. It seemed, by the look of sheer incoherence on Kurt's face, that life was thinking it over.
Kurt's eyes slid from the springy dark curls to Blaine's shoulder, his very strong shoulders, to his chest which was patterned slightly with light chest hair. He took in the angle at which the towel lay on his defined hips and felt himself shiver. It was unnerving and Kurt's skin burned. It was then that his breathing shuddered. His hand reached up to his face without even understanding why. It rested lighting behind his ear, his head cocking to the side ever so slightly. He knew he should have been more discrete and definitely more embarrassed but there was something in Blaine's blatant attitude that stunned him. They weren't necessarily afraid of each other in that moment, their eyes locked deeply, but just starkly aware of the fact that it was intensely new and boldly cliché. Kurt's skin tingled gorgeously as he shuffled into the duvet. Something changed though – reality happened. Kurt pushed himself up and averted his gaze. He began to walk past Blaine, his gaze finding his feet. He could not do this. He couldn't allow himself to do this when he had absolutely no idea what he was doing or what was expected of him or even how to simply react to a half naked boy in his bedroom. His lack of frame of reference and the prospect of making a great fool out of himself was what fuelled his spark of fear. It was enough for him to turn a deep red and for his breathing to stutter. He had to get out.
"Um, good. Do you erm, I'll just..." Kurt stuttered, sidestepping his way towards the exit. He felt the charge between them as he passed, his hands positively aching to catch the drips from Blaine's elbow and chin.
Blaine could see what was happening. He hadn't meant to scare Kurt away or freak him out. He'd boarded with boys his entire life and this was normal behaviour. He didn't feel awkward with others but he'd forgotten it was Kurt, Kurt who hadn't kissed another let alone grown comfortable with other guys. He felt foolish and cruel for not considering Kurt's reaction. He quickly reached out and pulled his discarded t-shirt over his wet frame. It fell lopsided over his chest as he spoke, a hint of panic in his voice.
"Kurt? Hey Kurt!"
The other boy turned, seemingly shy. "Hmm mm?"
Blaine could see Kurt's blush and registered every nervous flicker of his eyes. It only made his heart ache more. He wanted to reach out and tug Kurt to him, to show him he needn't be freaked out by a single thing, not where Blaine was concerned. He wanted to calm Kurt, to soothe the heat on his cheeks. Blaine realised in that moment exactly the stark differences in what they were comfortable with and how sensitive both had to be in the steps they took. A kiss was one thing but he was acutely aware of how much of Kurt's confidence and strength it took to be able to do it in the first place. It was at this moment Blaine was also able to understand and appreciate that Kurt cared a lot more than he was able to show. He felt his heart beat faster as he swallowed hard.
"I um, look, come here." Blaine signalled for Kurt's to join him on the edge of Kurt's bed, not before rapidly tugging on his pajama pants in the bathroom. He returned to see Kurt picking nervously at his sweater. As he sat by the other boy's side he took a breath and thought clearly. Their knees brushed a little as he spoke. "I'm sorry I haven't been as thoughtful as I should have."
Kurt could barely believe what he was hearing. "What?" he mumbled in shock, his eyes finding Blaine's.
"I just walked into your room like that and I'm sorry I made you feel uncomfortable," Blaine explained with a gentle honesty that caused Kurt's stomach to clench. The air seemed tight around them.
"Blaine, I-"
"No," Blaine reassured with a shake of his head. Kurt noticed his hair had begun to dry a little into smooth curls. It was all a little too much. "I shouldn't have done that and I'm truly sorry. I should have thought. I'm just so used to living at Dalton and wandering in the showers like that. I mean Wes and David are hardly discrete and when you've lived with them as long as I have and-"
"Blaine. Shush," Kurt warned, his hand tentatively placing itself on Blaine's knee for a second, with a widening of his eyes. It was ridiculous and, if truth be told, Blaine was being over dramatic. "There's no need to apologise. You need to stop worrying about me like this. You just stunned me, that's all."
Blaine nodded. "I just saw that you looked uncomfortable and I felt to blame."
Kurt laughed gently and sighed, letting the tension flow out as he did so. "Blaine you were in a towel. In my bedroom. Wet. Need I really say anymore because I honestly don't think I'm ready to."
It was Blaine's turn to blush. He barely had a hold on his mind. Kurt was saying what he thought he was... wasn't he? "So I didn't upset you?"
Kurt let out a sharp laugh as he shook his head. "If I'm upset you'll know. I can honestly say that I can't ever imagine being angry with you," he mused, his head tilting thoughtfully, "unless you continue to tiptoe around me and then I may just unleash my inner demon."
Kurt winked. It was a strange moment in which he realised Blaine truly did have a flaw. He had a desperate need to be perfect. Kurt knew the feeling of constantly striving to be the best, pushing to challenge himself and his extremely engrained need to dress and perform with the utmost class. What Blaine did was different; he was painfully pristine. He was always striving for such with a steely determination and an unfortunate side affect of appearing annoyingly idealistic and, in a way, smugly flawless. He cared enormously, Kurt couldn't express how much he felt that, but the fact that Blaine could never seem to just 'be' or to make those necessary gawky mistakes and to endure those awkward moments in life was becoming obvious. He was so graceful and presented. Kurt just wanted to squeeze the life out of him then sit back and watch the fall out. Maybe he wasn't the only one struggling.
"I'm being too intense?"
Kurt smiled, blinking under his eyelashes. "A little."
"I know," Blaine sighed, his fingers running over the bumps in Kurt's decorative duvet, "I don't mean to be."
"I know," Kurt repeated with the same tone of voice and with an added dash of affection, "I just don't want you to worry about me. Things are allowed to be awkward. In fact, I demand it happens every now and again. I'm good at it you know? You don't last at McKinley without a thick skin to endure anything that's thrown at you. Dumpster tossing does that to you, so I think you in a towel may just be something I could endure."
Blaine smirked, his eyes dancing happily and a lot more relaxed than previously. "I don't do awkward." It was the first sign of self deprecation that Kurt had seen in Blaine's eyes and he cherished it.
"Evidently," Kurt replied with a smart raise of his eyebrows.
"I come from a long line of the polished and pretentious."
"You're not pretentious," Kurt urged, his hand reaching to lay beside Blaine's on the bed. His fingers tingled nicely as he slid his eyes to the other boy's hazel ones. "You're warm and caring and you have a giving heart."
Blaine was sure, if he wasn't already crazy about Kurt, that he'd have fallen hard and fast in the moment. The cornflower blue of this sweater brought out the opal tint to his eyes, their iridescent colouring sparkled even without any light shining on them. He spoke so much truth and could see straight into Blaine's heart so starkly and shockingly.
"Thank you."
Kurt breathed in, his fingers sliding to lightly lay over Blaine's. They looked at each other; Blaine smiled fondly and, without breaking his gaze, lifted his fingers to tangle with Kurt's. It felt nice, more than nice.
"Ready for a day of fun?" Kurt whispered, unable to muster anything more substantial through the sheer jolt of bliss he was experiencing. He was unlike anything he'd ever felt before. He'd asserted himself and Blaine had even opened up. He felt a surge of confidence in that moment.
Blaine beamed, lacing his fingers further with Kurt's. "I can't wait."
NOTES: I know... I know... this day is in 2 Chapters and taking a little longer than you'd imagine but I hope it's not losing your interest. The next Chapter is OFFICIALLY my favourite I've written... there's a LOT of development (and their day of fun) and I seriously couldn't stop smiling as I wrote it. I can't wait for you guys to read it.
I SHOULD have it up tomorrow. I wanted to wish you all a Merry Christmas/Holiday of your choosing. I hope you have a wonderful two days.